


Star Wars One-shots

by Coleroz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2020-11-28 21:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20973539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coleroz/pseuds/Coleroz
Summary: Series of one-shots based around characters from Star Wars. Mainly centered around certified fluffball, Luke Skywalker. Lots of fluff and angst to be found here.





	1. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka finds Luke on Tatooine. Nothing further needs to be said.

Ahsoka might never know just what had compelled her to land her ship on the desert planet of Tatooine.

She'd been in a state of wistlessness flying with the aimlessness of one with nowhere in particular to go.

She'd long since given up searching for survivors of the massacre that was the Jedi Purges. At first she'd resolved to scour the galaxy for refugees until she found someone, but months, then years of coming up empty-handed had had weakened that resolve. Either anyone who was left were either too well hidden, or they were really all dead. A familiar lump of emotion bobbed in her throat at the thought. She simply couldn't wrap her head around the fact that everyone she'd grown up with was dead. Master Plo. Obi-wan. Anakin. Everyone.

She'd been aroused by the familiar sight of the barren world below.

Tatooine. Memories flooded her. She hadn't been back here since one of her first missions with her master, when they'd been walking after they'd cash-landed, with a desperate objective to return Jabba the Hutt's son to him.

Should she land? She hesitated for a few moments then shrugged to herself. Why not? It was as good a place to look for work as any.

* * *

Ahsoka pulled the cowl of her robe lower over her head. It was unlikely anyone would ever recognize her. Especially here, this far on the Outer Rim, on a planet she had visited once in her life. She'd grown up. She hadn't been in the media spotlight for years. Still, she had been the apprentice of a prominent Clone Wars hero, and it never hurt to be careful. And the robe provided sun protection as well.

She'd quickly become a bit lost on the unfamiliar sand covered streets. She was confident she could find her way back to the hanger bay if necessary, but she didn't want to get herself hopelessly lost. She knew, if nothing else, that Tatooine was a detestable hive of thugs and scum.

She sighed to herself.

What was she even here for? She had landed under the self-pretense of looking for work, but deep down she knew that wasn't really it. What was she looking for? A sign? A direction? A semblance of what to do? Of where to go from here?

Maybe she could go out to the desert and just walk for a bit. Walk, and pretend. Pretend she was a young teen again. A freshly minted padawan learner trotting behind her master and carrying a huttlet, skipping a bit to keep up with his long strides as he grumbled about the sand.

She didn't get the chance to decide anything.

She was interrupted from her idle musings when she heard a crash followed shouting from a nearby shop. A scrap shop from the looks of it. The shouting continued, then the door into the shop was suddenly flung wide open, and a small dusty figure was hurled out into the street.

Her kind nature roused, Ahsoka ran over to the figure to see if it or they, were alright. What she saw brought her up short.

A small human boy, sun-bleached hair tousled, lay on his side, curled up, crying but not sobbing. He wore ragged, too large clothing that hung loosely on him, making him seem even smaller than he was. She approached him quietly, her heart going out to him. She tentatively placed a hand on his head. He flinched and quickly looked up at her. Ahsoka took a sharp breath. His eyes were so blue. Bluer than her own, almost like-no she didn't want to think of it. His tears had made two streaks down his dusty, tanned face.

"It's okay, Little One. I won't hurt you, I promise."

He said nothing, but he seemed to relax when it became apparent she wasn't intending to harm him. Still, he remained alert, staring at her curiously. He sniffed.

"What's on your head?" He asked quietly.

Ahsoka stifled a laugh, and pulled back her hood so he could see. "My montrals. I'm a togruta."

"Oh." Was all he said. Still watching her, he sat up.

"What's your name Little One?"

The boy sniffed again.

"L-Luke Skywalker."

Ahsoka's train of thought ceased.

She didn't blink for several seconds. Then she shook herself. It had to be a coincidence. It had to! It could be. Had to be. After all, Tatooine is Anakin's home planet. Maybe Skywalker was a common name around here. It wasn't as if she'd been here often enough to know. And Anakin had certainly never spoken of it.

But.

There was something. A stirring in the Force. She looked more closely at the boy before her. Blue eyes. Blond hair. High, prominent cheekbones. A soft, cute nose that was scrunched up from crying. The beginnings of a cleft in the chin that would likely deepen when he got older. All features she recognised, reminding her of a certain Jedi knight, with touches of a certain senator.

It couldn't be.

Her mind raced. She wasn't blind. She'd realized almost right away that Anakin had feelings for Senator Amidala. Feelings the Jedi would definitely have disapproved of…. Feelings she was almost certain Padme returned…. But a child! It was inconceivable!

...No actually, it wasn't, she corrected herself. This was Anakin she was thinking of after all.

But how could she know? How could she confirm? If this boy was who she thought… Did the boy even know who he was?

"Who are your parents?" She asked suddenly, surprising the boy, who hesitated, glancing down.

"I don't know who my mother is...was."

Ahsoka dismissed this information and the boy's hesitation. She'd heard Padme had died at the Empire's birth and had been devastated all over again. Padme had been a dear friend after all. "And your father?" she said, perhaps a bit too quickly, and waited with bated breath.

A hint of both pride and longing entered the boy's voice as he said "Anakin. Anakin Skywalker."

Time seemed to slow. The Force rang true, her heart surged, and she knew.

She just knew.

She fully took in the little boy before her. There was a stinging sensation in her eyes. Her lips were parted slightly. She took in every detail. She reached out and placed her hands on either side of the boy's face. Of Anakin's son's face. He didn't shy away. Her throat closed. _He's beautiful Anakin._

Then an incredible, wonderful idea came to her. Was Anakin here? On Tatooine with his son? Had he escaped with his little boy after Padme died and taken him to the least likely place in the galaxy to hide? Hide him from the Empire that was still on a murderous hunt for all things connected to the Jedi? That would explain everything! Explain why he'd simply disappeared without a trace with no witnesses to his death. It would explain why he hadn't risen to fight, to help with the even now blossoming rebellion. It would be all too like her old master to put family over anything else, even the entire galaxy.

"Where is he? Your father?" She asked trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

She also tried to quell the blossoming hope in chest. Hope that crumbled and died with the boy's next words.

"He's dead."

She closed her eyes briefly. She'd known. She'd known Anakin was probably dead.

She'd known for a while it was very likely he was killed long ago. She'd heard rumors that Anakin Skywalker had died on Coruscant. Heard that he'd died defending the future emperor when the Jedi had made their assassination attempt. She knew it wasn't impossible, but something told her that story wasn't quite right.

She'd known that wherever he was when the order to terminate the Jedi was given, he would have fought to protect his comrades. He'd never have run. And as such had probably gotten himself killed. (She tried not to picture Rex doing the deed.)

Still, no matter what logic told her, she had hoped against hope. Hoped maybe just maybe….He was so _strong_. The strongest Jedi there was she believed. If anyone could survive the purges, he could. This, she had repeated to herself again and again, an ongoing mantra.

But the fact that Anakin's son was here, without Anakin, said it all, even without Luke's own confirmation. She knew Anakin would never willingly abandon his child. He'd never leave him here alone, on Tatooine of all places, a planet he loathed above all others. No. Never. He'd rather die than do that. She knew, instinctively, he would have died rather than do something that. And there lay the irony. He had died. And so couldn't prevent the outcome he'd rather die than let happen. The boy had lived here without either parent. And that raised another question.

"Who raised you, then?"

The boy cocked his head at her.

"Who's taken care of you?" She amended, "Who fed you and gave you clothes?"

She saw understanding light in the boy's eyes, swiftly followed by an intense sorrow that panged at Ahsoka's heart. "My aunt Beru and uncle Owen took care of me. But they were killed by Sand People."

"I'm so sorry." She said softly. Sympathy warred with her surprise. Anakin never mentioned that he had family on Tatooine. But then, Anakin told her little, if anything about his past. He had always avoided the topic as if it were the plague.

But then who had brought the boy here? And when?

Her eyes were drawn back to the boy, Luke, as he shifted on the ground. "Um. I have to go back inside. My master is gonna get angry if I don't get my chores finished."

She frowned in confusion. "Your master?"

His face scrunched a bit and he looked away. "You know. My owner."

Oh.

Something in Ahsoka went cold.

Anakin's son was a slave.

Oh he had to be dead.

Ahsoka knew almost nothing about Anakin's past, but she did happen to know he'd been enslaved as a child. She remembered vividly his open hatred of slavers and anything to do with slavery. And she knew, for a fact, that if he were alive, he'd have long since torn apart with his bare hands any who'd dared enslave his son, and he'd do it without so much as a thought to the Jedi code. Stars, it wouldn't surprise her if he came back from back from beyond the grave to do just that just in spite of it all.

And in that moment a fierce sense of protectiveness came over her. It was similar to the instinct to protect that she'd felt around the younglings at the temple, but deeper, stronger. Anakin was dead. There. She said it. So was Padme, and now their son was alone, and miserable, and a slave. A new resolve washed over her. This was why. Surely the Force had brought her here. Led her straight to Anakin and Padme's child. And she would look after him from now on. She would die before she let anything harm this precious little one.

"Well," was all she could think to say, "We'll have to do something about that."

He frowned a little, still gazing up at her with those innocent blue eyes.

She stroked the boy's soft hair in reassurance, and on impulse, she leaned down and kissed his head.

He smiled a smile that was definitely Padme's.

* * *

With a great deal of haggling, and a little encouragement given by one of her lightsabers, Ahsoka had bought and freed Luke from his master. A disagreeable man who looked to be half alien. He had been reluctant to give the boy up, young, skilled and useful as Luke was. But in the end Ahsoka had... _convinced_ him.

Now they were in the cockpit of her ship, going to- she still wasn't sure where, but she'd figure something out. Where to go from here.

Luke had been ecstatic at the sight of her ship and his eyes had widened as she led him inside. He'd spent the good part of an hour scouring every inch of the interior, asking questions about everything. It was amusing, and heartwarming to watch. He'd obviously inherited his father's love of ships and flying.

She'd finally gotten him to settle down enough that she could begin taking off. There was no reason to stay she decided. She found what she came here for after all.

Luke's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open when they first broke the planet's atmosphere and began traversing the stars, then he smiled with pure joy.

After a time, he'd fallen asleep in the seat beside her. His angelic features seeming to glow as he slumbered peacefully.

Before he fell asleep he tentatively asked, "Did you... know my father?"

She gazed at him. "Yes." She said simply. "I'll tell you all about him after you get some rest," she told him. His eyelids were drooping.

"Okay" He murmured just before he drifted off.

Ahsoka slouched, mentally and emotionally drained. She was still processing all that had just transpired. It was the will of the Force, she decided. And suddenly an incredible thought struck her.

Her expulsion from the order. They'd offered to let her come back but she found she couldn't. No matter how much she'd wished to rejoin and simply go on as if nothing had happened, she knew she couldn't stay. So hurt and disillusioned as she was.

Maybe there had been a purpose for that after all. For years now she privately bemoaned the unfairness of it all. She questioned the reason for it, and even cursed the Force for her lot. But it had allowed her to escape the Jedi purges unscathed, and allowed her to lie relatively beneath the radar, unbothered by the Empire.

For so long now she'd wandered the galaxy with no true sense of purpose, taking odd jobs as a bodyguard or informant wherever she could while trying not to draw the Empire's attention.

Obi-wan had said once that nothing happens without a reason. She looked at the boy. Maybe this…. This miracle, this precious boy was the reason. Maybe everything had led to this. Had she stayed with order she would have been killed, or hunted down. Then she could never have cared for Luke.

Her eyes were still on the little blond boy beside her, and once again, she felt her resolve, something she'd lacked for too long, deepen and solidify itself.

She looked back out at the stars.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han Solo decides not to go solo any more.

"I told you Chewie! I've made up my mind." Han growled to his hairy copilot. "There ain't nothing that can make me go back there."

"_What about Luke and the princess?"_

"They're both crazy! I offered Luke a chance to get out, but he made his choice. If they wanna get killed fighting a hopeless battle, that's their problem. It's got nothing to do with me."

Or so he'd been telling himself.

Chewie fell silent as well. He'd known Han long enough to know there was a time to push and a time to simply let Han be. Han had to work this out himself. He wouldn't respond well to pushing. Either he'd come around or he wouldn't.

Silently, Han stewed. The nerve of those two, suggesting he was a coward. Suggesting all he cared about was money. _But they're right aren't they?_ Something treacherous inside him said.

_Your friend is quite a mercenary. I wonder if he really cares about anything. Or anyone._

There was a time when it had been different. A time when he cared about so much more. Back when he was young. When he had dreams and ambitions. _When he'd been in love._

His mind went unthinkingly to the princess, and his mouth quirked involuntarily. She was a spitfire, that one. And not just because she'd grabbed Luke's blaster right out of his hands, blasted stormtroopers out in the open, blasted open the garbage chute and ordered everyone down without hesitation. No. She'd refused to give up valuable information even under torture, she'd remained defiant even in the face of death, and hopeful even in the face of tragedy and failure.

….Han had never been with another woman since… Well _since_. But if he were ever to…...Anyway.

And Luke. He'd known the kid for less than a standard day, but he'd already come to respect the bright-eyed youth. He had to admit to himself, he liked that kid. He had guts. For a farmer anyway. Even one from Tatooine. And while that princess had gotten on his nerves, he'd gained a reluctant respect for her as well. He shook his head. It wasn't his fault. He'd offered Luke a way out. He'd chosen to go out there anyway. And the princess had long since made her choice.

_Why don't you take a look around! You know what's about to happen, what they're up against. They could use a good pilot like you and you're turning your back on them._

There had been another unspoken message there, Han was sure of it. _You're turning your back on me. On Leia._

Why did it bother him so much? What was it about that pair that sparked something that had laid dormant for years now?

_They remind you of yourself, Idiot. _The treacherous voice said. _The way you used to be._

When had he lost it? That spark. That longing for something more. It hadn't been that long ago, and at the same time it had. Not that long, yet so very long since he too held that same bright-eyed wonder he saw in Luke. That fiery determination he saw in Leia. He remembered being a young man sitting in the cockpit of the Falcon watching them going into hyperspace for the first time. He'd been in giddy awe.

When had he become so jaded? When had his priorities shifted to 'always look out for number one'?

_Well take care of yourself, Han. I guess that's what you're best at isn't it?_

What did Luke know? He didn't have Han's experience. _And now he might never. _That voice whispered to him again.

..._Bah!_ Han Solo was a loner. Han Solo always shot first. Han Solo was a one man army. Han Solo didn't need anyone!

…..And Han Solo was tired of being alone.

Han looked inside himself. Deep inside. It wasn't something he often did, but he did it now. And deep down. He was afraid.

It all came down to one, primal, fear.

He didn't wanna get left behind again.

Without his consent, his eyes wandered to the sabacc dice on a chain hanging where they always did from the cockpit ceiling.

He'd learned the hard way. Everyone leaves you. Sooner or later… Everyone leaves.

_Go, I'm right behind you._

_You wanna know how I've survived as long as I have? I trust no one. Assume everyone will betray you and you will never be disappointed._

_Sounds like a lonely way to live._

Except this time… he was the one leaving.

Except for Chewie. He'd always had Chewie. They'd been alone together. Maybe that had made it easier in recent years for him to be the one to leave. _Stars_, when had he started being the one to leave?

Han Solo had never had a home. Not really. Corellia was his native planet, but it was never home.

He had been home with Qi'ra.

He was home with Chewie.

He'd been home with Luke and Leia.

Han Solo's home had always been with his friends.

Now he'd left a part of that behind him at Yavin.

"Kreth." He cursed out loud, as he turned the ship around.

* * *

"You're all clear, Kid! Now let's blow this thing and go home!"

* * *

Han bounded down the gangplank of the Falcon and looked wildly around for Luke's x-wing. It wasn't hard to find. Heaps of rebels were crowded around shouting, applauding, congratulating, and Han could just make out Luke and Leia through the throngs of people. Leia had her arms around Luke's neck hugging him while Luke spun her around. Both were laughing, almost crying with sheer joy and relief, and they were very much alive.

"Hey!" The gleeful shout bubbled up and out of him as he dashed to where his friends, yes, his _friends_ stood. Their faces turned to him, and, if possible, lit up even more at the sight of him.

Luke shouted his name, almost incomprehensibly such was his elation. He ran to meet Han and the two men collided.

"I knew you'd come back! I just knew it!"

"Well I couldn't let you get all the credit and take all the reward!" Han said, swiping at the younger man.

"Hey! I knew there was more to you than money." Leia said, joining them and they stood in a three way embrace, all three grinning grins a mile long.

_I knew you two would be waiting for me._

Then they strode, full of life and with their arms around one another still, out of the hanger.

Han Solo was home.


	3. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin didn't turn. His duel with Sidious left him in a coma lasting four years. He wakes, and meets his little son.

The medic was doing the usual routine check. Making sure the patient was stable, that all vital signs were normal, and none of the equipment hooked up to him was malfunctioning in any way. She documented several things and checked off the list on the datapad.

She stepped away to retrieve a fresh, clean breathing tube as it was due to be changed.

It was all routine, the patient had been here, condition unchanging for four years now. She'd expected no difference. She turned towards the med bed again, only to stumble back with an exclamation of utter surprise.

"Why, he's awake!"

* * *

Anakin Skywalker sat up in a medical bed. Or rather, he sat propped up by several pillows. His mind was foggy, and he was trying to make sense of...everything, while medics fussed all around him.

He took stock of everything he could. First, most noticeably, he was weak. Alarmingly so. When first he'd come to his senses, he'd instinctively tried to sit up, despite the young medic urging him lie still. The effort had defeated more completely than Dooku had when he was a padawan learner.

He tried to think what the last thing he remembered was. But all he could come up with was...pain. Blind agonizing pain.

He barely noticed the medics finally finishing their work and filing out except for one who he guessed was just keeping an eye on him.

At some point he heard voices outside his door. Two people conversing he concluded. One he didn't recognize, the other was familiar. It was a voice that had represented wisdom, safety and comfort throughout most of his life.

The door opened, And Obi-wan Kenobi stepped through.

* * *

Obi-wan's gray-blue gaze locked on the bed. When he saw Anakin's eyes open he rushed over.

"Anakin." He breathed.

"Master?"

His voice was horse from disuse, but upon hearing it years worth of worry and built-up tension seemed to drain out of Obi-wan. His shoulders lowered, his hands uncurled and his eyes relaxed, and Anakin could could have sworn he saw the sparkle of tears. Then his master blinked and it was gone.

"You're awake." He said moving to sit in a chair beside the bed.

Anakin's lips quirked in a smile. "So it would seem." He said, taking the rare opportunity to turn his master's usual sarcasm back on him. Then the smile faded. " What happened?" He asked seriously.

Obi-wan studied him carefully. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Anakin hesitated. "I've been trying to figure that out myself. I just remember, pain, and lightning?"

Obi-wan nodded. "Dark side lightning. You remember that particularly nasty sith technique Dooku used."

Anakin groaned at the memory of getting blasted in the chest with sith lightning sprouting from Dooku's fingertips.

"How could I forget?"

His master smirked. "I'm sure I don't know." Anakin glared at him, but Obi-wan ignored it as he continued. "You confronted the chancellor with Master Windu. Do you recall?"

Anakin considered, then nodded, the memory coming back to him now, so Obi-wan went on. "The two of you together managed to hold him off long enough for Master Yoda and I to come to your aid. Sidious took the first opportunity he could to blast you with lightning, and you blacked out.

"Yes. I remember now. " He said, wincing as he did. Kriff, he really should have been expecting that. Sith don't play the by rules after all. He should know. "So, did you-"

"We defeated him, naturally. He was immensely powerful, but he couldn't take us all on at once. He knew that of course which is why he tried to take you out of the picture, in a desperate attempt to give himself some semblance of a chance."

"So he's dead?" Said Anakin, just to clarify. He had noticed the Force felt, brighter, clearer, like the tone of a new bell. Not clouded, and dim, as it had for several years. Particularly during the Clone Wars.

"The details aren't important. But yes, we killed him in the end. We immediately tended to you, but you were already fast slipping into a coma. One no one was sure when you'd wake from, if ever." He looked Anakin straight in the eye now. "One that has lasted over four years."

Anakin took a moment to process that. And horror filled him.

Four years.

_Four years_. He'd been gone four years and left-

"Padme!" Oh Force, Padme!

Obi-wan placed a firm hand on his chest. "She's fine, Anakin, not to worry. She's perfectly fine." He smiled warmly. "And so are the children." He added with a twinkle in his eye.

Anakin stilled. "You, you know about that?" He asked, an odd mix of terrified and relieved.

"Certainly I know. Padme couldn't very well keep it a secret much longer, especially after the birth, which went quite smoothly, despite her distress at your condition. I'm shocked she was able to conceal it as long as she did." He paused and looked down, sadness clear on his face. "I must say I am rather disappointed, even hurt that you didn't feel you could trust me with this."

Anakin didn't know what to say. Obi-wan looked genuinely disappointed and remorseful. He swallowed "Master, I-" But Obi-wan put up a hand. "But that's a discussion for another time Anakin." He was smiling again. "You've finally woken up and this is a happy occasion."

Anakin released a breath and eyed his old mentor gratefully.

"So she gave birth, did it-"

He stopped.

His mind abruptly backtracked to earlier in the conversation.

Obi-wan said-

"Did…...did you say _children_? Plural?"

Ob-wan's smile broadened. "I did indeed. Children. _Twins_. Padme gave birth to twins. A boy and a girl. Congratulations Anakin."

Anakin mouthed, _twins_, as if trying the word out. Then his mind swam. Two babies. _Two_. A boy _and_ a girl. Grinning like a fool, he started talking a mile a minute.

"How are they? What do they look like? What are their names? Are they with Padme? Are they coming here? When will they get here? How-"

"Padme is on her way." Obi-wan cut his young friend off. "I commed her the moment I heard you were conscious."

Sensing the question on his old padawan's lips, he quickly continued, "She'll be a little while Anakin. Three years ago, we had to transfer you here, to this specialized medical facility here on Aarondor. It's about four hours from Coruscant."

"They won't arrive for a while then." Anakin murmured more to himself than to Obi-wan. Disappointed, he slumped further into the cushions. He honestly wasn't certain how long he could stand waiting to see his angel. His angel, and his babies. His children.

In that moment he was sure he would go mad with anticipation before they got here.

"Actually…." Obi-wan began, and Anakin perked up. His eyes suddenly glued to him. "What?" He demanded.

"I have one of the twins here with me."

"What?! Why with you?"

Obi-wan quirked an eyebrow, then shrugged. "It's difficult for Padme to handle both twins at once when she's at the senate even when she has her handmaiden. They are Force-sensitive after all. So I take one or both of them off her hands when I can. We've all visited you in rotations-"

"Where?!" Anakin almost shouted the word. Instinctively, he reached out carefully with the Force, and felt a small presence nearby. Small but almost blindingly bright, and so….._pure_. Pure light, like a small star.

"In the waiting area at the moment, the doctor wasn't certain you should-"

But Anakin was already struggling to get off the bed. Just in spite of all the tubes hooked up to him. Some of his strength had begun to return already,(Though it would take months for him to fully recover, he knew) and the thought of one of his children, in such close proximity, _tantalisingly_ close….He didn't care what anyone said. He needed this _now_.

Obi-wan however, again stepped forward to push his old apprentice back down. Anakin made a move to shove his hand away, but Obi-wan placed both hands on his shoulders and spoke quickly.

"Stay put, now, I'll bring him to you. Just have a spot of patience. You're still recovering. Do you want to put yourself in another coma before Padme even gets here?"

Anakin forced himself to calm down and laid back obediently. He looked at Obi-wan expectantly, an almost wild need behind his eyes.

Obi-wan nodded. "I'll be right back then. Don't you move." He said in a tone that brooked no argument.

* * *

He seemed to be gone for an eternity. More than once Anakin was tempted to jump out of bed and go after him. His eyes never moved from the door, so he saw the instant Obi-wan returned. His eyes were immediately drawn to the tiny figure in his arms. Bright, sandy-blond hair, lighter than his own, stood out against the deep brown of Obi-wan's robe.

His old mentor approached him and spoke softly. "Anakin. This is your son."

_A name. Give me a name._

"This is Luke."

_Luke_. Anakin latched onto the name, mouthing it, rolling it over in his mind and he decided it was perfect.

Luke turned his head to look directly at him, and Anakin's breath caught. Blue eyes, identical to his own, stared at him curiously.

Obi-wan moved to to put the perfect little angel on the bed, in Anakin's lap. He seemed to weigh almost nothing. Luke looked curiously up at him, his little head cocked. Anakin immediately decided the expression was adorable.

Luke pointed a tiny finger at Anakin and said to Obi-wan. "He's awake."

Obi-wan smiled at the boy. "Yes, Luke. Your father's finally awake."

Luke's head swiveled back to Anakin. "Daddy?" He asked, and a thrill shook Anakin at the sound of it.

Anakin reached out with the Force again to the thrumming, blindingly bright, and incredibly pure Force presence of his son. This time, he felt his son reach out for him in return, and Anakin couldn't help gasping aloud. A channel seemed to open up between father and son. A strong, unwavering connection. This, this was incredible. It was so clear, so open. It felt as though it were an intricate part of himself. His Force bond with his master had never felt like this, nor with Ahsoka, or even his mother.

He'd...he'd never felt anyone like this before.

Obi-wan's voice brought him out of his trance. "Say hello to your father, Luke."

Obediently, Luke put up his hand in a little wave. "Hi."

Anakin reached out with one hand, his flesh one, and touched the feather-soft hair. He trailed down and traced the curve of the jaw. He brushed the round cheek with his thumb. He touched the eyes, ears and soft pink lips. He touched the nose with a finger, making the little boy giggle. It was a heavenly sound that made Anakin's heart swell.

Then his son put his own hand up and touched his father's hair, his jaw, his cheeks, his eyes, ears, lips and nose. Anakin closed his eyes briefly, allowing his son to explore and relishing in the sweet, gentle touch.

Then Anakin could no longer help himself. He wrapped his arms around his tiny son. A thrill went through him as Luke snuggled into him. Through the open bond, he caught a wave of pleasure from Luke at being so snug, to his delight.

He was vaguely aware that his face was wet.

Anakin finally found his voice.

"Hello, Little one." He choked out, then whispered, "I've waited so long for you. For you….and your Sister."

"Leia."

He blinked.

"Leia? Is- is that her name?"

Luke nodded seriously. "Leia." He repeated, as if to make certain Anakin had it right.

_Luke and Leia. _ It was like music. He loved the sound of it.

"I can't wait to meet her."

Was it even possible for one person to feel as much love as he did for the tiny child in his arms? He'd thought he'd known all about love. Padme was his true love, and he loved her more than life itself, but this. This was something different. Something new entirely. Something beyond all his imaginings. Something pure, and good, and so, so right.

In that moment it occurred to him, he would die for this precious bundle in his arms. Without hesitation.

* * *

The man who was his daddy was nice, Luke decided. He could feel him. Like he felt Leia, but different. He felt really warm, and even without the smile on his face, Luke could tell he was happy. It made Luke feel good all inside. There were other feelings too. Strange ones that Luke didn't have a name for. But mostly it was happiness.

He touched Luke all over, and he wondered if it was a game. Mommy sometimes played games like that. He touched him back, the same way he had, and that seemed to please him, so Luke thought with satisfaction that he must have played the game right.

Then his daddy held him and Luke immediately decided he liked that. He had big arms that almost completely covered Luke, and Luke tried to get even deeper in. Mommy and Uncle Obi sometimes held him and that was nice, but it wasn't like this. It made him feel safe. It made him feel good.

Mommy and Uncle Obi had always taken him and Leia to visit their daddy while he was sleeping. They usually got bored of it fast, since there wasn't much to do, other than watch Daddy sleep and talk to him. Luke once asked Mommy why Daddy was asleep all the time. She said that a long time ago Daddy was really hurt, and now his body was sleeping, trying to get better.

He liked Daddy much better awake, Luke thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aarondor is just a planet I made up for plot convenience btw, so don't bother looking it up on Wookieepedia or anything.


	4. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expanding on the ending of The Last Jedi.

"See you around, Kid."

He said it as a last jab at his nephew, as a last tribute to the man who had been his dearest friend.

As a last farewell to everyone, to the galaxy.

We've reached the end.

Luke released his hold on the Force projection of himself with a gasp, and tumbled backwards off the rock he'd been seated on.

Breathing heavily with the exertion he had just put himself through, he carefully clambered back onto the rock.

He could feel it. His strength was fading, almost draining out of his old, well worn body. And he knew he was nearing the end.

_Well Skywalker, you came here to die. Now you get your wish._

But…..The sunset….

The sunset was so beautiful. More beautiful than it had seemed in years…..Twin suns….just like then….

Just like then.

And he remembered.

He was a naive young farm boy, staring out to the horizon, watching the suns of Tatooine set. Longing is in his heart, longing for something more than this mundane, simple life. It is something he finds himself unable to describe. A feeling he's meant to be so much more than a moisture farmer his whole life.

Because this planet is too small.

And his heart is too big.

His heart is a galaxy,

and his soul is lined in stars.

All this he felt and more.

On the day before his life would be changed forever.

Thus you might say all this began with a sunset. How fitting that it should end thus. Time has passed. An adventure has come to an end. The hopeful young farmboy is now the tired old Jedi master.

_A quest has come to an end,_

_And home's around the bend,_

_And here you are, my friend._

_What could be more right?_

_Let go._

Can he really leave? There is so much to do, so much to atone for. He still has much left to teach, still plenty of spirit, though he'd believed he'd lost it long ago. He still has so much to give the galaxy.

_Let go._

But it was alright now. The suns shone on his tired face. And he knew peace.

_Let go._

He let go.

And his spirit passed into the Force.

And so it was.

That Luke Skywalker.

The last Jedi.

Died.

* * *

"_Whatcha workin' on, Kid?"_

_Luke looked up to see his best friend in the doorway of his workroom. "Oh, hey Han. You're just in time, can you help me with this?"_

_The former smuggler walked closer to where his friend was messing with his prosthetic limb._

"_If you could just hold these two wires?"_

_Han smirked, which only meant mischief._

"_So what you're saying is…"_

_Luke's eyebrows shot up. "Don't!"_

"_You-"_

"_Don't you dare!"_

"_Need a hand!"_

_Luke attacked him with one-handed swats, and Han made to grab his arm, laughing._

"_What are you two doing hiding in here?"_

_Both men paused in their minor tussel to watch their sister and wife stride gracefully into the room. She pretended to look disapprovingly at them, but the obvious smile gave her away._

"_Hi Sis."_

"_Hello Beautiful. And for your information, we are not 'hiding', we're simply having a guy moment."_

"_Oh yes? Can your guy moment wait?" She looked intently at her husband. "Han we need to set up an extra room in our apartments."_

_Han frowned, confused. "Uh, what for?"_

"_For the little one."_

_Han blinked._

_Luke frowned, then his eyes widened as he understood. He looked quickly at Han, who clearly didn't get it yet._

"_Little one? What little one?"_

_Leia just smiled at him. Then she glanced down._

_Comprehension seeped into Han's face, and a slow, huge grin spread over it._

"_Really?"_

_Leia nodded, and Han abruptly scooped her up and spun her around, both of them laughing. Secretly, the idea of being a father was a daunting one for him, but he buried it down for now, instead giving in to his elation. Nothing would ruin this moment._

_Grinning, Luke joined them. "Congratulations!"_

_Leia turned and embraced her beloved brother. "Congratulations to you too, Uncle Luke."_

_And they stood, reveling in the moment, smiling._

_Because despite all they'd lost, they could smile. And these were happy times._

_The early parts of their lives had been spent under the thumb of the Empire, and later fighting in a war. Now though, the Empire was gone. What was destroyed could be rebuilt. They were well on the way to peace. The galaxy overall was becoming a happier place, and the stars themselves seemed to shine all the brighter for it. It was really as though their lives were only just beginning._

_Leia sighed. "I wish we could stay like this forever."_

"_Well, in a way, we will. The memories we make now will last the rest of our lives." Luke said._

_Leia's eyes shone. "And may nothing ever come between us."_

_Luke slipped his arm around his twin, and glanced at Han. "Are you kidding? We're friends for life!"_

_Han matched Luke's grin albeit his was a little cockier, and he reached to put his arm around Leia on her other side while he mussed Luke's hair with the same hand._

"_That's right! Nothing'll ever come between us!"_

_Luke smirked at him. "Right, well, something might if you don't help me with this." He held up his non-functioning right hand to illustrate his point._

"_You mean give you a hand, right?"_

"_Shut up."_

_The trio laughed._

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that he was underwater.

There was no panic however. No instinctive thrashing about. No burning need for fresh oxygen in his lungs, merely the innocent desire to get to the surface of it. A desire he obeyed. He stroked his arms and kicked his legs, and his limbs seemed to grow stronger as he did so. He could see light above him, and he wanted to reach that light. It looked so warm and bright.

He finally broke the surface, sending a swinging spray of water upwards as he did so.

He did not gasp or pant as one might expect, he merely breathed in, then proceeded to brush the water streaming from his face and hair out of his eyes. The water was neither warm nor cold, and impossibly clear, almost like crystal. Clean and sweet tasting. It rippled gently, though there was no wind, and the late afternoon light reflecting off it making it appear as molten glass.

He only then realized he was standing, waist deep despite it being deep enough to swim mere moments ago. He also noted he was naked, but oddly, felt no shame in it.

He glanced around, and glimpsed a beach not too far from him on his left. He trudged through the water towards it, paying no mind to the small waves breaking upon it. The sand was the whitest and softest he'd ever seen. And he'd seen quite a lot of sand. He stood, dripping, and glanced around him again.

"_Hello?" _The echo bounced off seemingly nothing. Though now that he looked he could dimly make out the shapes of distant mountains, coated in mist?

He'd also vaguely noted his voice sounded a bit younger than he was accustomed to.

Receiving no reply for now, not that he'd really expected one, he took a moment to study himself. He was….young, he decided. And it might be his imagination, but he very gradually seemed to be getting younger still. His body showed nor felt the slightest sign of age, and another interesting thing, he had not a single scar. He felt his right hand and wrist. His hand was not metal, and there was no distinct bump to mark where his prosthetic began. He touched his chin to find there was no beard there at all. He pulled one of his long locks of hair in front of his eyes to find it golden, with no traces of gray.

This was getting more bizarre by the moment. And he knew bizarre.

"Hello!" He tried again, louder than before. "Is anyone here?"

Before he realized, two strong-looking arms appeared in front of him, and draped a simple tan-colored robe over his shoulders.

Mystified, though not alarmed, Luke Skywalker turned.

And all last vestiges of old age abandoned Luke in that moment, and he was once more a slight young man, a bright-eyed boy, staring up to into look into the face of his beloved father.

Anakin Skywalker.

* * *

He looked not a bit as Luke had seen him last, alive that is. Rather, he looked as he's seen his ghost beside Obi-wan and Yoda on Endor, except now without the blue aura of a Force ghost. He also was young. A little older than he himself now was, he somehow knew. He sported a full head of dark golden hair, darker and curlier than Luke's. Like him he had no scars visible on his body. He also wore only a simple robe, in a darker hue than the one he'd placed on Luke.

And, he was smiling, fondly, joyfully, lovingly at his only son. That more than anything made him look younger, and at the same time, so old.

Luke didn't blink or speak for a long time.

Then he felt the tears gather at the corners of his eyes, and then fall. Precious tears, tears he'd been waiting all his life to cry.

"_Father!"_

_And for the very first time, father and son embraced._

Anakin tenderly stroked a hand through his son's hair, tears in his own eyes. "Luke. My Luke, you're here at last! I've been waiting so long for you... But I'm glad you took you time."

Then he drew back and held out his hand to Luke. "Come, it's time to go."

Luke moved to take it but paused, and looked back out over the water, back from where he had come.

Anakin studied his son sympathetically. "What is it?" He asked, though he knew quite well.

"It's just….Leia… Han and I are both gone. She's all alone….again. And Ben, I failed him, he never would have turned if I hadn't been so arrogant. And...Rey….She came to me for help, for guidance, but I just kept pushing her away. I left her with nothing."

He shut his eyes tight. "She's just like I was. Abandoned, alone in a battle against evil with none to show her the way."

The tears fell freely from his eyes again. "I failed them all. When they needed me most. Han, Leia and I, we abandoned each other! We- we had an unbreakable bond , but we broke it! We-"

"No, Luke." Anakin broke in on Luke's rush of words.

"Your bond _is_ unbreakable. You don't truly believe it's broken. Stretched or bended maybe, but broken? _Never_."

Anakin placed his large hands on his son's shoulders.

"Luke, look at me. You know, that I know better than any that you cannot change past mistakes. Regret will earn you nothing. You can only move forward from where you are. I've had to accept that myself."

When Luke still refused to meet his gaze, Anakin continued in a lowered tone.

"Ben made his own choices. He had all he needed, but chose to turn his back on it. Destroy it even."

"Your sister will carry on, just as she always has, and always will until the end. And she is far from alone."

"And Rey." He paused and smiled. "She will find her way." Then he leaned forward and placing his forehead against Luke's, whispered. "Just as you did."

This was what caused Luke to finally look up, his blue eyes meeting his father's, who smirked.

"She's a lot like you, y' know."

That made Luke slowly smile. She really was, so much like he was. She held the kind of hope he used to.

Anakin put out his hand and tilted Luke's head up, and Luke met his gaze. Anakin spoke deliberately, his next words interlaced with love and strength. Freeing them from his tongue. As if he'd been waiting an eternity to say them.

"I'm proud of you Luke. Know that. I have always been proud."

Luke stared at him, his mouth parted slightly. The he pressed his lips together, tears flowing even more freely. He just buried his face in his father's chest, heaving. And Anakin held him for a long time.

It was alright.

That's the answer.

No matter what. It will be alright.

Anakin drew back, and held out his hand once more. Luke took it without hesitation this time.

"Now come. Everyone's waiting."

The legacy of the Skywalkers was at an end.

But the legacy of the Jedi was not.

_I will not be the last Jedi._


	5. The Wager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda personified the light and dark sides of the Force, they are basically the Son and Daughter from the Clone Wars episode Overlords.(Which, I don't claim to understand completely like are they actually the Force itself? I didn't think so since they didn't talk about it that way but heck I don't know-) The concept was also sort of inspired by the film The Book of Life. (Which I think is really good btw. I think I may have stolen a line from it as well.)

The woman stood in what, in our mortal terms could only be described as a glade. It was warm, and bright, light streamed from no particular source. A sweet, unearthly singing kept the silence at bay.

At her feet was a flower.

A bright budded yellow flower.

And the inky black flower whose stem it was attached to-

The singing quieted. The air grew cold and the light dimmed.

She knew who was approaching.

"Hello Sister."

A man, if he could be described as such, for he was as a living shadow, and dripping greasy ink, took form and walked, or rather stalked towards the woman.

"Brother." She turned. "You have no right to enter this place."

A twisted smile that gave one a slimy unpleasant feeling stretched across the man's face.

"On the contrary, I have every right. I have earned my place here once more. The darkness is stronger now than it has been in millennia. And it is I who am above you."

His wicked smile broadened as he thought upon his greatest accomplishment.

"Even the mighty Chosen One is no longer yours. ...One might say he never was."

He began circling her as a predator would its prey. She stood unperturbed.

"I always called to him in his anger and his fear. How he responded was….intoxicating. The first time he slaughtered innocents, we both knew it was only a matter of time before he betrayed you and came to me."

She did not blink, but finally spoke.

"The prophecy of old, merely said the chosen One would bring balance and destroy the Sith. How he would do so was never specified."

Anger rumbled in him that she still continued to dismiss him. But he pondered. His eyes fell on the yellow budded flower and the black flower.

His smile returned.

"How about a wager then, my Sister?"

Silence.

"A wager?" She asked it flatly, but she did not fool him. He could sense her interest.

"The boy."

He smiled as she looked sharply at him.

"The little one with golden hair and sapphire eyes, who shines so... _brightly_." He snarled the last word.

"You refer to the son of the Chosen One?"

"Oh yes. He seems so pure and innocent, does he not? He shines like the brightest of stars. But even his pure heart is not left untainted with the dark."

"If I can claim this boy as I have claimed his father, you will kneel, and finally admit I am stronger than you, greater than you."

She considered him.

"You misjudge him, Brother. Untainted, he may not be, but the light courses strongly through him. He will not be easily swayed to your side."

"Then it will be so much more the challenge. Oh, I have many plans and traps for him, as you well know."

She paused. Her eyes lingered on the little yellow bud at her feet.

"Very well. If the boy comes to you willingly. If he betrays all he holds dear and becomes corrupt, then I shall do as you have said.

But if he cannot be turned, then you will leave this place, never to return."

"Then by the ancient laws, the wager is set."

* * *

"Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force." Ben leaned closer to Luke and lowered his voice.

"He betrayed and murdered your father."

Despair and anger filled Luke Skywalker.

Despair that Ben was confirming the truth that Luke had always secretly wished would one day be proven false. That his father was indeed dead, and would never come back to collect his son from this desolate place and take him to fly among the stars.

Anger that his father had apparently been betrayed by a trusted friend. That he'd been murdered and would otherwise be alive, and the person responsible was still alive and kicking.

* * *

He smiled. "It has begun."

She didn't react.

The flower was still bright yellow.

* * *

"I am your father."

Luke stilled. An unnatural calm coming over him.

No.

That- No.

That's impossible.

That terrible black-gloved hand reached out to him. Proffering. Imploring. He's never trusted that hand. That hand had hurt him, his friends and so many others.

"Come with me, Luke."

NONONONONONO.

Shock. Anger. Horror. Pain-horror-shockrepulsionfearsorrowrejectiondistrustragedenialshockterrorbetrayaldisgustangerpainfear.

….

_That's impossible._

Again the hand.

"It is the only way."

…..

No.

There was one other way.

He let go. And let himself fall.

* * *

He scowled fiercely as he watched the youth fall. He would not die. That he knew.

"He has already proven he would choose death before joining you, Brother."

"We shall see, my Sister, we shall see. He has yet to face the final trial. One he will fail."

The flower was still yellow.

* * *

Luke stared at the lightsaber in his hand.

This lightsaber. This weapon. It was used for conflict, whether it be creating or resolving it. A lightsaber was the icon of the jedi. But a jedi was so much more than a flashy sword. It was a weapon such as this that his father had used to slice off his hand…. much as he had just cut off his father's.

And now it was clear to him.

Down this path there can be but one destination.

He was a creature of the light.

And he would not fight.

He would not turn.

Not now.

Not ever.

"No." His ultimate refusal echoing in the Force. The light within him swirling and vibrating like a swarm of fireflies. It warmed him, filled him until he practically glowed.

He threw his weapon aside. With it his anger, his hate, his fear. His darkness. He cast it aside, far, far away from him.

He raised his voice now. "You've failed Your Highness. I am a Jedi, like my father before me!"

* * *

Beyond the mortal realm, the brother howled at the youth's words, the boy's resolve shattering and shaking and ripping through his very core.

She, on the other hand, stood tall and radiant as ever.

"Now you know the truth. You will never have him Brother! He has overcome! He has faced his greatest challenge, and prevailed! You have lost the wager. Now go from here! Flee!"

She raised her hand and winds picked up. The Son began to disintegrate into red and black ashes, the winds sweeping them away.

"Never!" His echoing voice seemed to fill the heavens. "There will always be darkness! Even in _his_ heart. One day he will make a mistake, one that will cost him dearly and he will despair. And _I_ will be there to comfort him then. _I_ will be present in his waking dreams. Not you!"

With a last shrieking howl, his center burst into a swarm of ashes and black soot, the warm winds sweeping them away into oblivion.

The light became bright and piercing once more, the air warm, and sweet. The singing gradually returned, stronger than before.

The Woman stood, then bent, kneeling to cup the bright yellow bud that now bloomed fully, as bright as ever. Her eyes followed the stem to the inky black flower. And she smiled as it uncurled from around itself and color flooded back into the petals. It was now a deep passionate red. Not a violent, savage, painful red, but a bright, sweet, loving red. As it had been, _before_.

_But it's center had always been that pure, sweet red._

Beside the red flower was a slightly smaller, blue one, with a white bud growing off the stem. If one looked beneath the ground, they would find the roots of these flowers intertwined.

"The hearts of men may change with time." The words were barely audible. "But there will always be another hopeful soul to follow. The children of the light. You may wager that, my brother."


	6. The Casino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Sith Lord discovers something interesting in a casino.

Darth Vader scanned the establishment with distaste. It was a scum hole disguised as an exclusive place where elite, rich individuals, most of whom had gained their wealth from gambling and black market goods, spent their time.

But it was not gamblers or pirates that brought the Sith Lord here tonight. No, he was here because there was a report near his location on a possible Force-sensitive that required further investigation.

Darth Vader did not typically attend to such matters himself. Generally this was a menial task that could be seen to by his inquisitors or similar agents trained in the Force. However, he had of late displeased the Emperor, and his master had carelessly assigned him this mission, such as it was, as a way of demeaning him. The old man was deliberately provoking him, Vader knew.

Irritated, but unable to refuse, he had begrudgingly set out in person for the appropriate sector and found the casino where the individual in question was documented to work. The agent that made the report was not Force-sensitive himself, and was unable to confirm. There was only an incident they had witnessed, involving a few tokens and other small objects that had mysteriously moved as though of their own will.

He could only hope it was true. If it was a Force-sensitive, he could vent his anger a little by disposing of them, or if they were strong enough, dragging them off to the inquisitors.

As he entered, many patrons stared, though not all noticed him at first. Several of those who did simply up and left hurriedly when they caught sight of him.

Vader paid them little mind and instead surveyed the inside, his senses aroused by something.

A well-dressed man came up to him rubbing his hands apprehensively. "Lord Vader! I… Welcome! I am the owner of this fine establishment. Is there something I can do for you?"

"You can remain unobtrusive to my purpose." Vader replied curtly.

The man's voice became more strained, but still spoke pleasantly enough. "Of course, of course. Do make yourself comfortable. Don't hesitate to inform me of anything you require."

Vader would have snapped at him, but as it was he was distracted and barely listening. He was stretching out his senses to lock into that shimmering Force presence.

There.

A human male, sitting on a sabacc table, one leg, knee bent was propped up on it completely, the other hanging down but not quite reaching the floor. He leaned back on his hands in casual, almost child-like manner.

A patron, a suave human man, seated at another table, occupied by three other people in the midst of a sabbac game, called to the younger man in an unfamiliar tongue, and he went. The patron handed the man a credit chip and the man crouched beside the patron's chair, gazing up at him.

He was a rather small man, made more apparent by his crouching.

Vader probed further and was startled by the intensity of the man's strength in the Force.

He felt around, probing and reveling in it. He not felt such power since…

Vader had to consider his options carefully. There were three of them.

First, he simply kill this man to ensure he never became a threat to the Empire… or his own position in it.

Second, he capture him and present him to the Emperor, and let him decide whether he was to become an Inquisitor, or if he was to be terminated.

And third… here was the most enticing option, Vader take him as his own apprentice.

It would be dangerous. He remembered well the failure that was Galen Marek. That left killing him or making him an Inquisitor, though both seemed like a waste of his potential, and there was the danger that his master would feel the same… It would not be unlike him to simply replace his apprentice with a younger, whole model. He'd done it twice before after all.

Perhaps the man sensed Vader gaze on him, for he glanced curiously at him. As he faced the Sith Lord, Vader could see that the _man_ was actually a boy. Not even in his twenties if he were to guess. The boy then turned his attention back to the patron he was currently attending.

The patron reached out almost absent-mindedly and stroked the boy's hair. At one point he broke his concentration on the game and conversation to lean down and whisper something to the boy. The boy appeared to listen, then threw back his head and laughed. The light reflected off his pearly white teeth.

It was a sweet, ringing laugh, not that loud, but just the same, it made many patrons look up and eyed the young man greedily.

And he was a sight. He was a pretty boy he supposed. Vader could see how he would be appealing. He possessed delicately crafted, aristocratic features, light colored hair, blond?, that fell in gentle waves around his temples and neck.

He was dressed in an outfit that consisted of black pants that hugged his slim legs, tucked into tall black dress boots that made his legs seem longer, a white dress shirt that was part-way unbuttoned to expose his collar bone and part of his torso, with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. The final touches were a small black vest, a royal blue tie that hung undone around his shoulders, and studded earrings that were just visible where his ears peeked out from his lengths of soft hair.

The boy made his way around the casino, seeming to glide rather than walk. Dropping winning smiles and winks and playing coy with all the patrons that looked his way. Which was quite a lot. He occasionally fetched drinks or spice for some, but mostly he acted as a companion to those who paid for it.

Coming to a decision, he approached the boy, intercepting his rounds.

He looked up, pale-colored eyes wide, startled by the Dark Lord's attention. Vader was as equally startled as the boy when those eyes met his behind the mask.

Now that he was actually this close to him, he could see he was even younger and smaller than he had first assessed him to be. Perhaps seventeen standard years at most, barely coming up to Vader's chest. No matter. The younger he was, the easier he would be to mold.

He reached out with his left hand to seize the child by his left upper arm and effortlessly tugged him forward so his back was to Vader. He wrapped his free hand around the boy's other bicep and with that he strode towards the exit, the boy stumbling over his own feet and struggling fruitlessly against his hold.

An individual he soon recognised as the owner of the casino hurried towards them, protesting loudly. He'd seemed intimidated before, but apparently, potentially losing the young man that no doubt brought him a great deal of business bolstered his courage.

"Lord Vader! What may I ask what you are you doing?"

"It is none of your concern." he rumbled.

The man's face reddened with anger. "It most certainly is! I own that boy!"

Vader stilled.

Oblivious, the owner pointed at the boy. "He's worth a fortune to me. If you're going to steal him, I demand some form of compensation."

The temperature plunged, and the boy shivered against him.

So. Not a job then. But forced servitude.

He wasn't certain why he was as angered as he was, slavery did not enrage as it had. But he supposed that, this being a rare opportunity to take old hurts out on an insignificant slave owner, he might as well outlet his anger. The dark side sang to him, and he answered its call.

"Oh? You demand, do you?"

He wrapped the Force around the man's neck and squeezed. The man's eyes bugged out and he made choking, gurgling sounds.

"And just what right do you believe you have to demand anything of me?"

He expected to hear choked begging come from the man as it inevitably did from all his soon to be victims.

Instead he was surprised to hear the boy's voice cry out with pleading.

"Please! Please let him go! I'll go quietly, just don't kill him."

Vader glanced at him, his surprise making him loosen his hold on the man, who gasped and coughed immediately, slumping forward.

Vader addressed him.

"Consider your compensation that I allow you to keep your pathetic life. If you value it, you will speak of this to no one."

With that, he made for the exit, the boy in tow.

* * *

He shoved the child into the corner of the ship. "Sit there and do not cause trouble, or I will bind you."

The boy sullenly slumped down against the wall, looking very small and pathetic. He drew his knees up to his chest and gazed blankly at the opposite wall.

"What do you want with me?"

Vader normally would pay no mind to a prisoner's questions, but something in the boy's small voice made him consider answering. But now was not the time to explain.

"You will know soon enough." He said instead, and left it at that.

But soon questions of his own were stirring in his mind. He asked them before he could stop himself.

"Why would you care to save your master's life?"

He wasn't certain why he had heeded the boy's pleading on behalf of the man who owned him. Perhaps it had been his surprise made him do so.

The boy glanced up, seemingly surprised at being addressed by the Sith Lord.

"Jacco was my owner, but… I don't want him dead. Not that I liked him, but I don't think he deserves to die."

He looked away and added quietly, "I've never thought anyone deserved to die."

That was interesting. Not that Vader believed it. In slavery you met the worst kinds of people. You wished death on them and more.

"He didn't mistreat me. ...most of the time. Not if I behaved."

Vader snorted, though his vocalodor translated it as mostly static. "That was because he would lose money if he damaged you, I have no doubt."

The boy shrugged, conceding the point.

"Fair enough. Still… It… it wasn't a bad life. At least I plenty of food, shelter and relative safety. That's more than a lot of people can say."

Was he trying to be grateful? When he was a slave? He pointed a finger at the boy's face.

"Do you truly have no greater ambitions than being kept as a trophy or decoration in a casino? To bring pleasure to corrupt aristocrats until your youth has passed and your beauty leaves you, and you are cast aside to die or live out your days in the streets or doing hard labor?"

If so, Vader could not say if this would make future dealings with the boy easier or harder.

The boy looked up at him, and Vader was again disconcerted by how he could meet his eyes as though the mask were not there.

"Of course I have greater ambitions." he replied, indignance clear in his demeanor and tone. The boy had some pride it seemed.

"I've always had dreams, and I've tried making a break for it before, but nothing works. Every time I try, they lock me up for days at a time. I don't like the work I do, but anything is better than losing my mind in a tiny cell." His head drooped and he shook it from side to side, his fluffy hair swaying. "Any freedom is better than none at all."

"...Fair enough."

Silence ensued

"Have you a transmitter?" He asked after a time. He could easily disable it using the Force if necessary. He ought to have thought to do that before.

The boy shrugged. "I don't have a detonator. They didn't want to risk damaging me, but I have a tracker in me somewhere. That's how they always found me when I ran away."

That would be seen to.

* * *

They docked with Vader's flagship and Vader rose from his seat.

He strode over to the boy, who looked up apprehensively.

He unclipped the binders from his belt, seized the boy's arm roughly and clipped the binders on his wrist. He lifted his arm over the boy's head and slipped the binders through the opening of one of the safety handholds on the wall. He secured the boy's other wrist and stepped back examining the unhappy-looking teenager.

"I will return for you shortly. You will remain, and keep silent or you will be severely punished."

He supposed he should ask his name. It would be changed soon, but just for the sake of being informed. He may be the child of a Jedi like his last apprentice.

For now, he needed a way to smuggle him off the shuttle to somewhere private so no one would know of his presence. He would report the sighting to have been false, or the source disposed of. From there... well, they would see.

* * *


	7. An Orphan in the Senate

Padme Amidala sighed as she strode out into the entrance to the senate hallway. That hearing had not gone as hoped. She was already working out the next steps that should be taken if they wanted this bill passed-

Padme did a double-take.

There was a little human boy standing in the middle of the Senate hallway.

Her thoughts caught up with her and she paused. Was he the son of one of the senators? She noted his worn-looking clothes and wondered. Surely not if he was so poorly dressed. Not all senators were wealthy per se, but certainly they were well enough off. It was essential for carrying out their duties in the Senate.

Regardless, the boy looked very lost, glancing uncertainly around him, a distressed, confused expression on his face.

She hesitated. She had a meeting to get to, but she should make sure he was alright at least. She approached him.

"Are you alright dear?" She asked, putting on a gentle smile.

At the sound of her voice he turned and glanced up at her. Her eyes met his and her breath was stolen as she swore she was transported to the past when she had been a young queen on the run, and had met a little slave boy who would come to mean the galaxy to her.

The eyes, the hair… The clothes were reminiscent of that style as well… But this boy was older than Anakin had been then, perhaps eleven or twelve. But she was surprised when the boy had a similar reaction upon seeing her, for he jolted immediately in shock.

He blinked and she frowned a little, drawing back a little, but never completely losing her unthreatening smile.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to frighten you."

The boy's mouth opened but no sound came out. He stared at her, then blinked, looking away and scratching the back of his head shyly.

"You didn't frighten me, I just… thought you were someone else for a second."

...That was an odd coincidence. "Oh? Who do I remind you of?"

"...My _sister_." She distantly thought there was something odd in the way he said the word. "You... look a lot like her."

"Oh? Is she around here? Are you here with your family?" It wasn't that unusual for senators to tour the Senate building with their families. She had the brief image of her and Anakin wandering around the Senate with their own little family, and the thought made a familiar longing well up in her. She glanced around, and saw several people cast puzzled glances their way, but none who might be looking for the boy.

She focused on the boy again when he spoke. "No...I'm not sure where I am." He bit his lip and looked up at her imploringly and Padme felt her heart inexplicably ache at the expression.

Odd. How could a lone child have gotten past the Senate guards?

"This is the second floor of the Senate, dear."

"The- the Senate? Alderaan has a senate?"

She blinked. ...How lost was this child? "Alderaan? Sweetie, you're on Coruscant."

The boy's eyes widened and he began trembling alarmingly.

"Cor-Coruscant? Imperial Center? No! I was on Alderaan! I can't be here! I- I-"

His young voice rang with true terror the likes of which Padme had become familiar with these past months and years and she hurried to calm him. He couldn't be a seperatist's child, could he? That might explain his fear, though not how he had come to be here.

"No one is going to hurt you darling, I promise." She said soothingly. She hesitated a moment, but maternal instinct won out and she rubbed his arms. He stiffened initially, but soon relaxed into her touch.

"No one will hurt you." She said again. On an impulse, she smiled and said. "And if anyone tries, they'll have to get through me."

He glanced up at her, a little disbelievingly.

"Now don't look at me that way. You'd be surprised. I'm quite handy with a blaster." She winked at him.

He giggled and Padme's heart swelled at the sound.

"My name is Padme. We'll find you a way back to Alderaan, love. It just so happens I am good friends with Alderaan's senator. I'm sure we can arrange something."

"...Thank you." He still seemed nervous, but he was marginally calmer.

She put a hand on his shoulder blade and gently guided him through the building. It might be best if she brought him back to her office for the moment.

She thought back on the boy's words. He had called this… Imperial Center? Was that some sort of nickname the Separatists had dubbed Coruscant? Was that how they thought of The Republic? As an empire? It was troubling if that was the case.

Suddenly she felt a tickling at the back of her neck. She reached to rub the spot only to have the tickling move to her nose.

Realization struck and delight rose in her. She turned around and her delight reached a crescendo at the sight of a tall Man with wavy dark blond hair, dazzling blue eyes and dark colored Jedi robes.

She remained composed save for the bright smile lighting her features. And she calmly made her way over to him, the child, whom she had momentarily forgotten, followed, unsure.

"Master Jedi. I see you've returned." She teased.

"I have, Senator." Anakin made a sweeping bow and rose, smiling that soft smile that he reserved for her alone. They stepped into the vacant room he had been standing in the doorway of.

He glanced down and frowned in mild confusion.

She realized he was staring at the boy beside her, who had been quietly observing them, though now his eyes were fixed on Anakin.

"Uh, what's up with the youngling?" He asked quietly, a hand on one side of his mouth.

The boy had lowered his gaze. Thinking he was uncomfortable, she reached out a hand to pull him closer, but paused. His gaze was not on the floor. It was on Anakin's lightsaber.

"Anakin is a Jedi Knight." she explained. She supposed he must be in awe. It wasn't everyone who got to meet a real Jedi in person. ...Or, if he was a seperatist as she theorized, perhaps he was frightened.

"There's no need to be nervous." She said to be sure.

She turned back to Anakin. "Anakin, this is…" She blinked, then berated herself. She'd never found out his name.

"Forgive me dear, I never asked you what your name was."

The boy bit his lip. Glancing with a peculiar expression between her and Anakin. "Luke. I'm Luke." he said at last.

"Luke." She repeated. She... liked that name. In fact, she very _much_ liked that name. She smiled affectionately at him. "That's a lovely name. I think if I ever had a son, I think I might name him that."

She felt more than saw Anakin raise his eyebrows at her.

The boy still stared. She was wondering if she had said or done anything wrong when the boy spoke again. "Are you…?" He was addressing Anakin. He paused and swallowed. "Are you… Anakin Skywalker?" There was an odd note in his voice, almost like... hope?

"Heard of me, huh?" Anakin said cockily. She resisted rolling her eyes. She knew Anakin enjoyed his reknown throughout the Galaxy. Maybe a little too much, she thought wryly.

She flicked her gaze to the boy and her smile fell.

Luke had gone pale. He took a shaky step back.

"Luke?" The name tasted sweet on her tongue. "Luke, it's alright. I promised no one would hurt you, and I meant it."

She stepped toward him, and he didn't back away anymore. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Luke is lost. He says he was on Alderaan and somehow ended up here."

Anakin raised an eyebrow at her, then the boy, seeming to actually take in his appearance for the first time. He was silent for a while, his eyes lingering on his face, as hers had. "Did you board a ship? Maybe it left the planet without you realizing."

The boy shook his head. "No. I was just walking around on Alderaan, I swear."

She and Anakin shared a glance, exchanging words silently. Perhaps the boy was just confused, or frightened, or perhaps just embarrassed. And yet...he didn't seem to be lying….

Anakin gave her a look and a nod that told her he could sense no lie.

"That's the last you remember?" He said it with the smallest hint of weary impatience, imperceptible except perhaps to her. She could tell he wanted to deal with this as soon as was possible, so they could spend some time alone.

The boy nodded. "I got seperated from Ben."

"Ben?"

"My ...guardian. ...I don't have parents." Again, there was an odd note in his voice. "They died."

"You poor dear." Padme murmured.

Then… he started to fade. Padme blinked, and no, she hadn't imagined it, the boy was… just… fading away.

Anakin stiffening beside her told her she wasn't the only one seeing it.

"Luke?" She asked, bewildered. The boy broke his gaze away from them and glanced down at himself, seeming to only just realize himself.

"This… this is what happened before." He breathed. Then he bit his lip and tears sparkled in his eyes. "But why? Why already? I just got here! I just got to meet them! Why?!"

"Who are you?" Anakin said, barely above a whisper. Padme looked to him wildly.

Luke switched his glassy blue gaze between both of theirs. He was almost completely see-through now.

A tear rolled down his cheek and off his face. "My name is Luke Skywalker!"

He was gone.

The single tear hit the floor. The only evidence he had ever been there at all.

Padme was trembling, the boy's parting words echoing throughout every crevice of her mind.

"Luke _Skywalker…..._.. _Anakin_."

Anakin was frozen. He slowly shook his head.

"_Anakin_." She said again, her voice getting higher pitched. "You don't think… it couldn't be!"

Anakin's eyes were still riveted to the spot where the boy had been. "I don't know. I just… don't know…"


	8. Destinies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey struggles with her darkness and lineage. Leia and Luke guide her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*SPOILERS FOR THE RISE OF SKYWALKER. You have been warned.)

"This isn't working." Rey said flatly.

"Be patient."

"I have been! I've been at this for months now, and I still can't hear them!" Rey looked imploringly at her master.

Leia sat, calm, and regal as ever, on a fallen tree trunk. "Rey, you mustn't let your frustrations keep you from-"

"I can't help it!" Rey exclaimed, spinning so her back was towards Leia.

"I've tried all you've said, but I can't help it! I can't help being angry. What kind of Jedi does that make me?" She let out a heavy breath. "Luke faced temptations from Darth Vader and the Emperor and didn't give in, while here I am losing control and getting angry with a remote!"

"Rey." Leia said in that gentle, but firm way of hers, and Rey couldn't help looking over her shoulder at her master. "Every Jedi who ever lived, has struggled with the dark side. Trust me when I say _Luke_ was no exception."

She held out her hand to Rey, and Rey, melting a little under her kind, understanding gaze, reluctantly went to her side, sitting on the log as well.

"I saw it most clearly after the confrontation on Bespin." Leia began, and as if the Force itself became lost in memories of one of it's dearest children with the Princess, a vision Luke appeared in front of them.

Rey sat up straighter at the sight of him but didn't dare say one word.

He wore a helmet with a mask piece that hid his entire face from view. He was much younger than the Luke she knew, Rey could tell from his slimmer, lithe form, and smooth, unwrinkled skin.

Luke, or rather, young, vision Luke stood in a defensive stance, an unfamiliar lightsaber in his grasp. He swung his lightsaber in practiced strokes blocking blasts from a remote as Rey had been attempting not long before. The sounds coming from the vision seemed far-away, echoey and dream-like.

"For weeks after, he was more upset, torn up, and ..._angry_ than I had _ever_ seen him."

As though to emphasize her point, Luke swung his blade faster and faster, deflecting every single bolt in a breath-taking and inhuman display until, with a yell, he abruptly ended it by slicing the remote in two clean halves. The ruined machine dropped to the ground with a plop.

He pulled off the helmet with a flourish, revealing bright, golden locks beneath and Rey saw his face, the emotions painted on his features and reflected more deeply in his clouded blue eyes, normally so clear. There was pain, a hint of fear deep underneath…. And _anger_.

"He found his way back eventually. He always did." Leia added with a fond smile. "Nothing could keep Luke down for long, but… he was never the same."

Vision Luke yelled and the place where he stood must have been an abandoned stone building of some kind, as already fractured and decrepit pillars and blocks fell around him.

"He struggled for a long time. Those of us who were closest to him knew that… _something_ _was_ _wrong_."

An array of sudden, frantic whistling came from the figure of Artoo-deetoo as he was caught under one of the heavy, crumbling pillars.

Luke seemed to snap back to himself and spun around.

_Artoo!_

He rushed to the side of his faithful droid in dismay.

_I'm sorry! I'm __**sorry** _ _!_

With that, the vision was blown away like dust to be replaced by another young Luke seated on a crate in a shadowy corner. He was staring hollow-eyed at something glowing green in his hands.

"We knew Vader had done something to him, beyond beating him and cutting off his hand. No, it… had to be something much deeper than that. Vader had...done something. Told him… _something_."

A younger, vision Leia, with silky brown locks done up in one of her usual elaborate hairstyles, walked into the scene, sitting beside the vision Luke.

"We asked him of course, but… Luke would never tell us."

Vision Leia placed a hand on vision Luke's shoulder tenderly, concern in her expression as she spoke softly to him. But Luke stood abruptly, shaking her hand off and walking away, clenching his hand around the glowing object.

"I could only imagine what would have been so terrible that he couldn't repeat even to me. As you know, the _truth…_ the truth was so much more devastating than I had thought."

"I know now that, he was questioning everything back then. His ideals, his existence, /. He wondered whether... he should even _be_ a Jedi. Whether he had the _right_.

Vision Luke walked closer to them and the pain in his eyes was heartbreaking. The vision dissipated before them without a trace.

Rey felt Leia's smooth hand on her shoulder.

"Never be afraid of _who you are_, Rey."

* * *

"I'm not ready." Rey told Lando.

"You think _we_ were ready? Any of us? Han and I hardly knew about anything beyond helping ourselves. Luke and Leia were just _kids_. Luke in particular… Do you really think he was any different from you? I admit I wasn't in the picture for most of his journey to becoming a Jedi ...but I know I saw the worst of it."

Lando's eyes grew distant as he was transported to the past.

"But he kept going, and so can you. Because neither of you fight alone."

* * *

"_What_ _are_ _you_ _**doing**_**?**"

Luke's question, asked so bluntly conveyed a thousand words in just a few.

There were a hundred questions packed into that one.

_Why are you here?_

_What happened?_

_Why are you burning your ship?_

_What are you running from?_

_Why are you throwing away what I gave back?_

_Why are you hiding?_

_What are you so afraid of?_

"I'm doing what you did! I'm staying here! Where I can't hurt anyone anymore!"

Tears stung her eyes, and her throat bobbed with a lump.

The void in her felt vaster than it ever had. All her life she had wanted only to find her place, to know who she was. Now that she had, she was more lost than ever before.

She didn't know where she belonged.

She was Rey from nowhere.

The wind caught up Luke's hair and robes, and Rey could feel the sympathy and peace radiating off him. Rey couldn't meet his eyes.

"How did you handle this?" She whispered. "Is this how you felt realizing you were related to… a monster...?"

"Rey…" Luke leaned down to gaze straight into her eyes, blue meeting brown.

Luke straightened and turned slightly, gazing over the cliffs, over the sea.

"The dark side… it doesn't just tempt with power, might, and control. It knows your deepest desires... and your deepest fears."

Luke was silent for some time. When he spoke, his voice was low, gravelly and quiet.

"_I_ was tested too, Rey. As every Jedi is at one point or another."

Rey remained quiet, knowing it would be a mistake to interrupt him now.

"I was barely older than you the first time I was tested. As part of my training, I entered a place entrenched with the dark side of the Force and there I was confronted. I was shown my worst fear."

Luke seemed to gather his strength.

"I saw _Vader…_ I fought him… but when I killed him, and saw the face behind the mask… it was not the face of a strange man, a droid, or a monster... it was _me_. My _own_ face."

Rey's lips parted in silent exclamation of horror.

"My greatest fear was not Vader. It was that I would fail, and _become_ him."

Rey's vision was vibrant in her mind, trapping her, choking her.

"You saw yourself on the throne of the Sith because that is what you most fear. That is what you carry with you. That is the fear you hold in your heart."

Luke shook his head at her. "Most of us are more susceptible to fear, rather than anger. _Fear _is the bare root of all evil, Rey. Fear leads to anger, anger to hate and hate to suffering, and not just in ourselves."

Luke's eyes sparkled and he stared at the ground. At the rain hitting and sinking into the earth.

"...Fear makes us do terrible things and make terrible choices…. Even if it's to run away..… It drives us to abandon all we love."

Tears were running down Rey's cheeks now. The image of young Luke and Leia sitting together, Leia beseeching him, and Luke walking away was pushed to the forefront of her thoughts.

"But…...You so often meet your fate on the path you take to avoid it."

"Is that simply my destiny then?" Rey whispered to no one. She could barely get the words past her throat.

"Destiny." Luke scoffed softly.

His voice grew more serious than she had ever heard from him.

"I was told it was my destiny to kill my father. I was told by my father and Palpatine that it was my destiny to fall to the dark side."

His intense eyes stared into her soul.

"They were wrong." He breathed.

"I cannot say it doesn't matter where you come from… It does… in some form or another...But our paths are our own. Our destiny is our own."

Luke's metal hand came up, brushing her cheek affectionately.

"_Overcoming_ fear, _**that**_... is the _destiny_ of a Jedi."

His tone and eyes only grew softer. _"Your destiny."_

"My destiny… is my own."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just saw The Rise of Skywalker recently, after, *cough*, weeks of putting it off for no other reason than that I was busy. Overall, I thought it was very good… considering where we left off with the last film…... but anyway! I liked Rey's struggles with the dark side and her identity and was constantly reminding me of Luke's own struggles.
> 
> With Leia and Luke being the children of one of the worst villains the galaxy has ever known I think they could relate to her on a very deep level with her learning of her heritage.(More specifically Luke. I realize Leia must have had a hard time too, but Luke had to deal with it first, while he was fighting a war and training as a Jedi.) I'm surprised and a bit disappointed that that particular detail wasn't taken advantage of more in terms of Luke and Leia mentoring and relating to Rey.


	9. Home: part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han comes home.

"Chewie. ...We're home."

* * *

"He's carrying a map to Luke Skywalker."

That stopped Han in his tracks. It was impossible not to traverse the galaxy without hearing stories. Whispers and rumors of the legendary Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master. The Hero. The Redeemer. That damned kid. ...That kid. Who'd have ever thought.

"...You _are _the Han Solo that fought with the rebellion." The dark-skinned kid continued.

...Was he? Did he still have a claim on the name of a man he formerly was? A man who'd been a hero? A husband, brother, and father. Did he have a claim on a phantom of the past?

"...You knew him." Finn didn't have to explain who he meant.

Memories flooded Han unbidden. Memories of another time. Another life. Of loves and sorrows. Of victories and regrets. He took a deep breath and turned back around to face the two young stragglers.

"Yeah, I knew him. I knew Luke."

In another life he had. And they'd been happy. Him, Luke… and Leia. The indomitable trio. A lasting friendship… But everything was too good to last.

Everything.

* * *

With Chewie wounded, the girl had joined him for takeoff and flight. He had to wonder how she'd developed an accent like hers, growing up on a rugged, uncivilized desert world. She did her best to conceal her glee beside him. The similarities to a certain dusty, bright-eyed kid pilot off a sand planet he once knew was making him uncomfortable.

Han was getting the most unnerving sense of deja vu right now.

The silence was broken when hesitantly spoke up. "You knew Luke Skywalker?"

Han glanced sideways at her. "I just said so, didn't I?"

The wonder and admiration in her eyes immediately gave Han conflicting feelings of cockiness and discomfort.

She tentatively asked. "Would you tell me about him? What's he like?"

Han sighed inwardly. He'd been half expecting a request of that sort. He leaned back in his chair. "And why would I do that, Kid?"

That seemed to momentarily stump her. She considered it for a moment, then looked him in the eye. "Because I asked?" Then she pulled a face. "And my name isn't 'kid'. It's Rey."

Again Han felt like he'd been thrown into the past, and he stared resolutely ahead.

"I mean," she continued hastily, "I've heard so many stories. But it's hard to know what's true and what's not. ...Or what's exaggerated." She added with a hint of a smile.

"But I've never met anyone who actually knew Luke Skywalker personally." She said, a hint of awe in her voice. "Luke Skywalker," She seemed fond of saying the kid's name. "Ace pilot, Hero of the Rebellion and the Battle of Yavin, then Jedi Master of the Jedi Order."

He studied her. And couldn't help the slight smirk as he said, "He wasn't Luke Skywalker, ace pilot, rebel hero, Jedi Master and all that to me. To me he was just 'Kid'."

And the past whispered to him. Han remembered.

* * *

_The kid was watching again._

_He could almost feel his huge eyes roaming about as though trying to absorb the experience._

_That farmboy who was accompanying the old man was the picture of a fresh faced local who didn't get out much. Han was sure he's trailed at least a pound of sand onto his beloved Falcon._

_He so far proved to have spunk at least. He was apparently a pilot too. Han turned his eyes to where he was standing in the entrance to the cockpit, his intense blue gaze seeming to take in every detail._

"_First time on a ship, Kid?"_

_He's seen the look on this kid's face when he's first seen the white streaks of hyperspace._

_The youth turned on him with a scowl._

"_Quit calling me 'Kid'! I have a name. I'm Luke. Luke Skywalker!" His thick Tatooine accent was prominent as was his irritation._

_Han snorted in derision. Even as a twinge of recognition registered at the mention of the last name, but he put it aside for later consideration. "Alright Luke Skywalker." He drawled. "I imagine you didn't have many opportunities to get off that dustball they call a planet, do ya?"_

_The kid's hands balled into fists. "You -!"_

"_Am I wrong?"_

"_Will you tell me about the places you've been?"_

"_Why should I, Kid?"_

"_I told you, stop calling me that. And because I asked?"_

_Han sighed_

* * *

They broke the surface and the girl's eyes widened as she stilled.

"I didn't know there was this much green in the whole galaxy." Her voice was quiet with awe and emotion.

And once more Han was unwillingly transported to the past.

* * *

_The kid was in the cockpit again when they flew down on the surface of Yavin IV, and this time Han couldn't bring himself to complain. The kid was clearly hit hard by the death of the old man._

_He glanced back, only to find the kid directly behind them._

_Han almost snapped at him, but paused when he glimpsed the frozen expression of wonder on his face._

"_I didn't know there was this much green… anywhere." He whispered._

* * *

"_What do you think of her, Han?"_

"_I'm trying not to, Kid."_

_Luke seemed to have given up trying to get Han to stop calling him that. Which was good because it was starting to stick, Han thought in amusement._

* * *

"It wasn't all bad was it? Some of it was… _good_."

Leia nodded firmly, that ernest joy that comes with age and beloved memories seeping into her eyes. "Pretty good." She confirmed, the barest hint of emotion in her voice.

"You know. No matter how much we fought. I always hated watching you leave."

He flashed her his signature lop-sided grin, one of his few features that remained untouched by the years. "That's why I did it. So you'd _miss _me."

He held her. Stroked her hair, the way he used to. In a happier time. A brighter age.

"If you see our son… Bring him _home_."

_Home_…

He'd forgotten where home was. Again.

No more.

_I'm home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels kinda incomplete, but I can't think of much else to add to it.


	10. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piett never expected a young rebel to stir memories of a little, kidnapped prince, but then he knew better than to trust expectations.

Piett had never expected to garner the attention of Darth Vader.

He certainly hadn't expected to wind up being promoted to Captain and transferred to Lord Vader's own flagship.

And he most definitely, never in milenia, would have expected to find himself in the role of glorified babysitter to Darth Vader's son, the young Prince Luke.

And yet here he was.

Life, as was so often the case, cared nothing for your expectations.

Such subversions only continued when he'd met the Prince. Luke was the very opposite of what you'd expect of the _son of Darth Vader_. Golden-haired, rosy-cheeked and bright of mind and disposition, even a little shy. He was a trouble-maker, often entertaining himself by playing pranks, whether by levitating a stormtrooper's momentarily removed helmet into the air and confusing the poor man, or leaving sharp tacks on the chairs of certain officers before a meeting. He didn't know much about children, but he wouldn't have expected such cunning and mischief from a three-year-old, but once again, Piett was learning not to put much faith in expectations.

What he probably should have been expecting but hadn't, was how affectionate Luke was. He'd latched onto Piett almost instantaneously, and Piett wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't know what to do when Luke would attach himself to Piett's leg like some kind of suction creature, or lifted his arms to be picked up or hugged. Piett had always refused unless the situation called for it, but Luke was never deterred, quite the opposite, it seemed to make him more determined.

The next unexpected thing was the effect the boy appeared to have on the Dark Lord himself, whether to soften his appearance or his temperament. Piett hadn't quite been successful in _not _staring at the image of the Dark Lord standing, tall and menacing as ever, which was completely undermined by the bubbly little toddler nestled in his arm.

He didn't fail to notice how much calmer, more patient the man was when the boy was around. Lives were saved by his presence alone, although the same could not be said if something happened _to _the boy. Force help them all if Luke was ever hurt in any manner. To think Vader was terrifying _normally_.

To say Lord Vader was protective of the Prince, would be an understatement of the highest order, but so too could that be said of any parent, and contrary to popular expectations, it proved to Piett in no uncertain terms that there was indeed, a human heart beating within that cold, armored chest.

* * *

Then came that horrible day. The day that did _not _go as expected, every detail of which was branded into his mind.

The rebel attack, a diversion, or mere coincidence, they never knew. Lord Vader suddenly stiffening, then whirling around and _running_, it was the first and only time Piett had ever seen him truly _run_, in the direction of his and Luke's quarters. Piett's heart jumping into his throat upon realizing something must have happened to Luke.

Piett almost following him, before realizing that Lord Vader was more than capable of handling whatever situation was taking place, and Piett would be expected to assist the dangerously incompetent Admiral Ozzel in overseeing the bridge and continue to regulate the defenses.

Then Lord Vader returning, ordering with a sharp and dangerous, although if Piett didn't know any better, almost a panicked tone, an all out search of the ship, a search for the young prince.

Then the report that one of their shuttles had been taken, and whoever it was had escaped in the wake of the chaos. Piett _knew_, as Lord Vader must know, that Luke had been aboard that shuttle, and he and whoever had _kidnapped _him were long gone.

The way that unfortunate ensign, the Admiral, whose own oversights had allowed for this ambush and several other officers had at that moment risen into the air simultaneously, suspended by some invisible force, all clawing at their necks, mouths open, fighting for a breath that would never come, was still a sight that haunted him and kept him from sleep.

Piett was promoted to Admiral that day.

Lord Vader was never the same.

Immediately after the incident, he called for searches of nearby planets that yielded nothing.

Piett saw it physically, in the way he almost appeared more stooped over, more tense. Imperceptible to anyone, save for Piett who worked with the man on a daily basis. He saw it in how much shorter his temper had become, how he snapped at the smallest obstruction or offense. He saw it in how much harder he was to please and placate. He saw it in how much crueler and unrelenting he was when dealing with insolent or incompetant underlings. He saw it in how much more ruthlessly he hunted rebels, and interrogated prisoners.

And most of all, he was obsessed over finding his kidnapped child, tearing the galaxy apart, hiring bounty hunters and spending more and more time at the viewport, staring out at the stars.

But beyond that, life went on within the Empire, as it did on board the star destroyer. Years passed, and the kidnapped prince was all but forgotten.

Even Piett tried to put him out of his mind, but with little success.

* * *

Piett stepped onto the deck where a group of captured rebels were gathered and several of his men were busy processing them, prepping some for interrogation.

He examined the rag-tag bunch with some disdain. How such an unruly and obviously undisciplined horde of beings could be causing such grief for the Empire was beyond him.

A younger man caught his eye.

He was towards the center of the group, partially obscured from view, almost as though his fellow rebels were shielding him, for all the good it would do.

Upon closer inspection, he found that he was in fact, very young indeed. Perhaps a teenager or just barely into his twenties at most and inwardly Piett sighed. How he hated to see the youth caught up in this war, falling prey to Rebel propaganda and fighting against what they no doubt truly believed to be a tyrannical government. The Rebellion was truly despicable for taking advantage of young people's naive and self-righteous zeel.

Piett made a point not to think about Luke, but he had no control when something so strongly reminded him of the boy. As the young man did now. That boy had to be about the age Luke would be now, and he was even blond…

A niggly little thought danced cheekily across his mind, but he snuffed it out before it had a chance to fully form. The odds were astronomical. They had searched for years for where Luke had been taken with no success. The boy was either dead, or was so well hidden, the most prominent power in the galaxy could uncover no trace of him. To think that he might simply be handed to them here and now in such a manner was preposterous.

And still, he found his eyes continuously wandering back to the young blond rebel as if by some magnetic pull.

The young man was rather small. Possibly about Piett's height or shorter. It was difficult to say since the boy was kneeling, hands cuffed together behind him.

...Luke, despite being a whirlwind of energy and wildness, had always been a bit small for his age. Such a tiny boy, yet so full of life...

He scolded himself fiercely. He must stop thinking of this. It was of absolutely no benefit. The young man was not Luke. It was _not _possible.

The boy must have somehow felt Piett's gaze on him, for he glanced around and their eyes locked. Piett sucked in a breath-

_Blue _eyes. Just like Luke had- _enough_!

It was coincidence, nothing more. Luke was far, far away from here if he was even still alive. Piett would likely never see him again.

It came the boy's turn for processing. A stormtrooper seized his arm and dragged him carelessly to his feet.

Unexpectedly, Piett felt a surge of protectiveness. There was no need to be so rough, the boy was already bound and obviously hurt if the way he favored his left leg was any indication. Then he shook his head in frustration. He should leave. Things were proceeding smoothly, and he wasn't needed here. He'd distance himself as much as possible from the rebel that made him feel as though he were looking at a ghost.

Still he didn't yet move.

"Name," he heard another trooper say gruffly.

The boy set his jaw stubbornly.

The trooper holding the young man struck him across the back of his head with the butt of his blaster and the rebel stumbled several steps, pain written across his features.

Piett wanted to reason with the boy, try to make him see that resisting for the sake of something as insignificant as a name was foolish. It would earn him only pain, and he should conserve his strength. He would need it.

"Name," the trooper demanded again.

...He had been kidnapped by a Jedi. During a Rebel attack. There was no evidence to suggest that those two things were correlated, but… Surely the Jedi would want the Empire done away with as much as the Rebellion did. Surely it was not inconceivable to think that they might have sought refuge with, if not joined that group of renegades… If that were Luke, Lord Vader would be furious-

No, what was he thinking of!

But those… those eyes.

It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be but..

"Luke," the boy finally spat, and ever after Piett could have sworn his heart quite literally did a somersault in his chest.

"Luke what?" the trooper said sharply, but Piett didn't even hear anymore. He didn't need to. He was striding forward, and then he was in front of the boy.

He stood for several pregnant seconds, staring hard.

The features matched perfectly. Like the pieces to a puzzle he fit them all together in the form of this boy. Dimple chin, bright blond hair, high cheekbones, small, curved nose, full lips, small in stature for his age, and of course, dazzling blue eyes… they were all Luke's, only older, bigger, sharper. There were differences as well, such as a small dimple in one cheek, light freckles and more color in the skin, and an assortment of scars, but nothing that couldn't be attributed to time, sunlight exposure, and a rough life fraught with danger.

He cupped the boy's face with his hands, eyes darting from one feature to another, just to make absolutely sure he hadn't imagined it. There was bruising on his jaw and around his eye he noticed, suggesting that he hadn't come quietly because of course he hadn't. Luke, for all that he'd been sweet as Nubian honey, he was also a fighter, and as stubborn as his father. Often refusing to be locked in his quarters or go to bed or leave his father's side.

The boy, for his part, looked startled by the attention, and even more by the contact, and Piett was fully aware of how odd his actions appeared to the surrounding rebels and imperials alike. But for once, he found he didn't truly care about appearances.

"Luke? Luke Skywalker?" he said, barely louder than a whisper.

The boy's already wide eyes grow wider. But this older version of Luke, this rebel that wore Luke's face didn't light up and squeal a greeting as the toddler he'd known would have.

No. Luke stared at him as if he had no idea who Piett was.

Because he didn't.

And that hurt.

What could he expect though? The boy hadn't even been four standard years when he'd been stolen away. By now he would have little, if any memory of his time as the young Imperial Prince, and that felt like a crime.

But he was still _Luke_.

He couldn't help himself, he pulled the boy against him in an embrace.

Luke was stiff against him, probably both from discomfort and surprise, and Piett pulled back and turned to the trooper in charge.

"Continue with your duties, I will take custody of this one myself," he told the officer in charge.

"Very good, Admiral," he replied professionally, though his confusion was apparent.

He put a gentle but firm hand on the small of Luke's back, above his cuffed wrists, prompting him forward. To his relief, Luke didn't resist him, but Piett kept a close eye on him anyway.

"Where are you taking me?" A hesitant voice queried when they were out of ear-shot.

Piett, who'd just been contemplating how he'd explain this to Lord Vader, swiveled his head to gaze fully at Luke, _Luke_! Yes, it was him, he was sure of it now, and considered how to respond.

He slid his hand from Luke's back to the boy's shoulder and squeezed in what he hoped would be a reassuring way. "Everything is going to be alright now, Luke."

Luke frowned, looking as if he didn't believe him. "Who are you?"

A lump formed in Piett's throat.

_It's not his fault. _He reminded himself. _He was kidnapped for the last fifteen years._

"I am Admiral Firmus Piett. But you may call me, Piett."

_Peet! Peet! Come pway with me!_

Luke only blinked at that.

For one brief moment, trickling terror seized him. What if he was wrong? What proof did he have that his suspicions were accurate? Perhaps he had only seen what he wanted to see, and by acting rashly and bringing him straight to Lord Vader without verifying, he'd just earned an automatic death sentence for the young man, and very likely himself as well.

But the moment passed. No, if it wasn't Luke, it was someone who bore an incredible resemblance to him, and who could blame him for being fooled?

Well, Vader. Vader could, and would if he was wrong. But he stood his ground, determined that he was indeed correct.

He keyed open a certain doorway and ushered Luke inside.

Luke appeared to brace himself, setting his jaw for what lay inside, then his mouth dropped open.

Piett gave the room the once over as well, but mostly he watched Luke. He himself had not been inside for many years, and it was almost precisely as he remembered, with toys, some clothing articles and droid parts strewn about hap-hazradly. Even the blankets on the small child's bed in the corner were still carelessly pushed back as though someone had only recently vacated it.

Luke turned to him, befuddlement coloring his every feature, and it was almost enough to make Piett laugh.

"This… This looks like a children's room."

"And?"

Luke seemed at loss at that. "It's… It's just not... what I was expecting I guess."

_Indeed._

He hadn't bothered to comm Lord Vader. He was sure the man still had his comm programmed to alert him if anyone dared entered these quarters.

They didn't have to wait long.

The door slid open to reveal the hulking, menacing form of Darth Vader. He didn't waste any time. Scarcely was the door open wide enough to admit him than he was stepping through launching into a sharp reprimand. "Admiral, what-"

The mask concealed the man's face completely, but still Piett saw the moment his eyes landed on the young man, for he stilled, whether from anger or shock it was always difficult to say, but he was willing to wager anything that it was the latter in this instance.

Lord Vader took several long steps towards the boy, who stumbled back in alarm. When Lord was in arm's reach, he brought up a hand.

The boy was now pressing himself against the back wall as though he could somehow merge with it and escape the Dark Lord's reach, and he let out what Piett could only describe as a squeak when Vader cupped his jaw with shocking gentleness.

"..._Explain_," the Dark Lord said to the Admiral, though his gaze never strayed from Luke's face.

"He was brought in with a band of rebels who were apprehended earlier today, My Lord. As you can see, he bears a striking resemblance to…"

"Luke," Vader finished.

"How do you know who I am?" the boy asked, his curiosity seeming to outweigh his fear. Definitely a trait of the Prince's.

"It is you do not know who you are, boy. I raised you myself until you were stolen from me!"

Even Piett winced at the vehemence in his voice, but at the same time, something in his chest loosened. As sure as he'd been, he couldn't quite, _quite _dare to believe it. Not until Lord Vader confirmed, and if he did, then it _was _true. In the past several bounty hunters had tried to present an imposter to him in the hopes of reward, but Vader had always seen through the deception immediately. There could be no deceiving the Dark Lord of the Sith.

"That's-" Clearly, whatever Luke had been expecting the Dark Lord to say, it wasn't that, but he recovered quickly enough. "That's impossible!"

Vader said nothing. Rather he changed the position of his hand from Luke's jaw to his forehead.

Whatever Lord Vader showed the boy, memories, if he had to guess, of Luke's too brief time with his father, it made the boy's eyes blow wider still, and he began to tremble.

"No… that… this is a trick."

"Luke," Vader said, as softly as he could with his vocaloder. "I am your _father_."

Luke had looked all too ready to retort, but instead, his shoulders slackened, his lips parted with no sound escaping them.

Piett was absolutely sure he had not expected to hear _that_ from the Dark Lord's mouth.

Expectations truly were unreliable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this one-shot in a fevered frenzy like I've never experienced before. 0-0
> 
> Yeah, so, It's been a while since I posted any writing, I know. That's not to say I haven't been writing though! I just… um, haven't finished any lately. But I may be getting back into my groove now, we'll see!


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